Wheeling Gull Isle canine excavation services

Coelacanth emerged from the Labyrinth at the sound of a scuffle. Her atramentous pelage was dusty and her delicate features haggard from the span of time she’d ensconced herself in the island’s secret cave system, but she frequently emerged to interact with her growing children, @Fern and @Mur included. At eight weeks old, the Seelholms’ move to a rendezvous site was growing more overdue by the day, but Seelie had deliberately put it off in the wake of Mou’s disappearance and her smoke-sickness. Fortunately, her children did not seem as affected by the poor air quality. They were made of stronger stuff than their mother, and the Aralez rejoiced.

Edging nearer to the hole her son had dug, the sheepdog cocked her head from one side to the other, her expression patently impressed. She looked at Sixgill’s version of macaroni art with smug maternal pride and “barked” approval, jaws lashing wide to loose a sharp rush of air before snapping shut with a soft click. If she’d been in better condition, she would’ve jumped right down in there with him — but for now, she was simply a rapt observer. She stretched out on her trim belly, her tufted ears Anubis-tall and canted eagerly forward upon her skull.